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Letter to Maman

Letter to Maman

You call out Papa: I answer.

You call out Maman: I answer.

I call out Maman: you do not always answer. Our roles over the past few years have changed. Something which, in the beginning, was hard for me to deal with. I now respond to any name you call me, I've come to realize there is no use in trying to set you straight on who is who. Besides, what does it matter, you are still my Maman, and always will be. Even though this disease has taken away your physical abilities of being my Maman, it somehow hasn't taken away your emotional abilities of being my Maman.

If I am upset you try to console me in the best way you can, with a kiss, a hug or the stroke of your hand. It's our way of communicating now, as words are few and far between.

When I come home from work, you are happy to see me and want me to sit next to you, we chat a bit even though the words no longer have much meaning to you.

You still care, you still are my Maman.

You still love children, it's such a joy to see your face when a child comes into the room or you see a baby on TV. Your face lights up and you want to get near them, to touch them, to mother them.

You still have your beautiful smile and wink in your eye when you see someone you know or something makes you happy. Many is the time, that smile is what keeps me going.

You still laugh when something strikes you funny; it's usually the silly things that set you off. I try my best to make you laugh, as I feel it's good for the soul and it takes the edge off.

You are still the same polite, sweet person you always were, thanking anybody who gives you something or does something for you.

Somehow even though there are so many things you can no longer do for yourself, emotionally you still are your same old self. As you become more dependent on me and I become more of a mother figure in your eyes, one thing still remains: You are still my Maman and always will be.

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I started caring for my 96-year-old grandmother in 2014. Since then my life has changed completely. At first I was overwhelmed with the task of caring for her: depression set in, my heath started to deteriorate. My grandmother has no mental health issues, but I’m the only one caring for her.